


Shut Me Up

by Hatteress (goddammitstacey)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Stiles, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Stiles fails at being quiet, Top Derek, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammitstacey/pseuds/Hatteress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The sounds you make,” Derek says, and his voice is low and filthy even to his own ears. “<em>Fuck</em>, Stiles.”</p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>The one in which Stiles fails at being quiet during sex and Derek has to shut him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Me Up

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Заставь меня замолчать](https://archiveofourown.org/works/635975) by [maricon_lanero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maricon_lanero/pseuds/maricon_lanero)



> This is the result of a 'Zip Me' prompt on tumblr: _Leave an “Zip Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about a character dressing another, or the other way around [this can also be used for shutting them up as well, but feel free to specify.]_

Stiles in bed is a lot like Stiles everywhere else. He's brash, doesn't do as he's told and can't ever just stay in one position. Derek doesn't know what he was expecting when he fell into this...whatever this is, but he can admit that Stiles hasn't failed to - well, surprise would be putting it mildly.

But for all that, or rather - fuck Derek's life -  _because_  of all that, Derek's finding it particularly difficult to not get addicted to this. The feel of Stiles' skin under his hands, the clench of heat around him as Stiles slides one knee back and  _bucks_  against him, forcing him deeper.

"Stiles-  _fuck_ ," Derek grits, swallowing hard around a growl because he's in the Sheriff's house, fucking the Sheriff's son and John Stilinski may be a lot of things, but hard of hearing isn't one of them.

Stiles just whines, shameless and more honest than Derek ever sees him outside of this as he claws at the bedspread, spine bowing beneath Derek's hands. "Please Derek," he pants. "Please god -  _fuck_  - "

The last breaks on a yelp as Derek hauls him up, setting him in his lap with one hand pressed to Stiles' chest as he fucks up sharply. Stiles' moan doesn't even make it past his lips.

Because Derek's learned the hard way that Stiles' ability to stay silent during sex is about on par with his ability to stay silent  _any other fucking time_. Generally it doesn't matter - Stiles' mind is a formidable thing when set to a task and finding secluded places to have sex is something he's sort of ridiculously adept at.

But then there are times like this. 

Derek adjusts his grip, hooking his hand more securely over Stiles' mouth as he rolls his hips and the muffled groan he gets in response is pretty much the best sound in the universe.

"The sounds you make," Derek says, and his voice is low and filthy even to his own ears. " _Fuck_ , Stiles."

Stiles makes a sound of assent against his hand, fingernails digging into Derek's forearm where it's pinning him back against Derek's chest. At this angle Stiles has fuck all leverage and as much as Derek loves it when Stiles gives as good as he gets, he can't deny he likes this too - pinning Stiles in one place and just  _taking_  him.

Derek tugs slightly and Stiles' head drops back onto his shoulder, the line of his throat taut and lean and right fucking  _there_  and Derek can't help pressing his mouth to the pulse point, feeling his fangs itch.

Stiles claws at his arm and fucking  _keens_  and Derek has to pull back slightly, feeling a low growl vibrate through his chest as he presses his forehead to Stiles' neck and just breathes. From this angle he can see down between them; see where he's disappearing into Stiles with every thrust and he can't help slowing, watching the drag and pull until Stiles groans against his hand like Derek's  _killing_  him.

"Impatient," Derek pants, thrusting up sharply once, twice and that's all it takes before Stiles is seizing up, mouth opening hot and wet against Derek's hand and it's mildly ridiculous that the only time Stiles is silent is when he comes.

The smell hits Derek like a punch to the gut, sex and Stiles and  _his_  and it's enough to pitch Derek over the edge too. He muffles his groan against Stiles' shoulder, thrusting minutely through the aftershocks until his legs are shaking too badly and he has to collapse them both forward onto the mattress.

"Oh my god," Stiles groans against the pillow. "I think you killed me. I'm speaking to you now from beyond the grave."

Derek grunts and presses his mouth to Stiles' shoulder. "You  _would_  find a way to talk through death," he says and Stiles tries to elbow him, huffing a laugh. Derek just shifts his weight, pinning Stiles more securely against the mattress and it's...nice. The feel of Stiles under him, skin warm and smooth and  _everywhere_. Derek presses his face to the back of Stiles' neck and breathes him in.

"You are so weird," Stiles says, relaxing under him and Derek can't help feeling proud that he can make human live-wire Stiles Stilinski this smoothly pliant. "It's a good thing I like weird."

"It's a good thing I like  _loud_ ," Derek says, lazily licking across the top-most knob of Stiles' spine.

"I'm not loud," Stiles says. "I'm...enthusiastic."

Derek snorts, shifting up and over to collapse next to Stiles on the bed. Even the slight distance is an unwanted one, but Derek's learned the hard way that Stiles won't make him move until he's had the air crushed out of him if he gives him the chance. "Yeah well, we're going to have to  _enthusiastically_  invest in a gag if we're going to keep doing this here."

Stiles rolls his shoulders, and grins. "Ooo, kinky," he says, waggling his eyebrows like a pervert. Derek rolls his eyes and then freezes because-  _fuck_.

The knock on the door is sharp and  _terrifying_.

"Stiles?" Sheriff Stilinski calls through the door.

Stiles' looks like he's been slapped with a fish. "Uh - yeah?"

"Dinner's in ten," the Sheriff says and Derek starts breathing again only to choke a moment later when it's followed with, "Tell Derek he's on dishes."

Stiles' face goes from shocked to mortified in the space of about a millisecond before he buries his face in his pillow and makes a sound like he's dying.

Derek - well, he falls off the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Want a prompt of your very own? Come attack me on tumblr: [hatteress.tumblr.com](http://hatteress.tumblr.com)


End file.
